Sacrificial Angel
by nicole-envious
Summary: Bad things happen to good people and Grace is no exception to the rule. This is a story about one woman's bad luck and encounters with Stranded on the mainland.


**Author's Note: Hello All! I just want to say a few things before you read, first off this was intended as a one-shot but... depending on how well it sits with people, I might make it longer. Secondly, I don't own any of the elements from Gears of War. The characters are all my creation. I would like to thank Falynn Angel for all your help, I couldn't have finished this with out you! I hope everyone enjoys it!**

Grace looked out across the great expanse. The world was broken, not just from war but from everything. They had broken the world long before the war. She looked down at her makeshift moccasins and wiggled her toes in the dust beneath her. She looked behind her at the desert she had just crossed. The term 'Desert' was relative, sure there was vegetation, but forests void of life didn't count. She needed to find a place to set up camp before dark. Maybe if she was lucky she would find a nice rat or bird. She noticed that the sun was starting its descent towards the horizon and hurried. She hopped down the hill, taking small joy in the little effort it took to move a greater distance when you were going downhill.

Grace travelled alone. She tried her best to avoid most forms of society unless she really needed something. No one could blame her though… being a woman had its disadvantages. Especially in today's society. She was a commodity and she would rather not be traded for food and protection. She considered herself lucky, she was one of the few to still enjoy true freedom.

It was funny, the things you learn about yourself. Grace had always thought she was dependent on other people for her enjoyment and survival, she had found otherwise during the 'long years'. She taught herself the best way to cook rats and make it appetizing. She learned she would eat just about anything from raw, bloody meat to rotting vegetables. She could tell what direction she was travelling without the use of a compass or the sun. The only thing that she needed from day to day was simple: food, water, and music. Without her music, she would have lost her sanity. It didn't matter that she had listened to those songs at least a hundred times each; they were her memories and emotions. The music added color to the landscape and flavor to the food. It was her spice of life. The player had become her best friend in a sense, her alter ego.

After she had walked for a couple of hours, keeping close vigilance of her surroundings, she decided to call it a day. She stopped and looked around for a place to camp. There were the rocky outcroppings, the open plains, or the skeleton-like forest. She began walking towards the forest. She rarely had any encounters with locusts, she was too quiet for them to notice her. There were sometimes when they were patrolling certain areas she had had the intention of crossing. Grace was no fighter, never had been, she would always choose to run away and leave everything behind in a moment's notice.

After she set up camp she began her routine: seventy-five pushups, one hundred squats, and one hundred sit-ups, followed by dinner. That night she had a small dinner consisting of her normal rations, half a cereal bar that had enough calories to equal a whole day's worth and dried meat. The cereal bar was unpalatable without a drink, coating her mouth in crumbs with the consistency of fine sawdust. The dried meat usually consisted of small birds or rodents. One year she had been extremely lucky and had actually found a deer. She had killed it and made the meat last a whole year. The hide and bones had proved to be very useful in trading and making her own supplies. Scanning the area with her eyes, she sensed nothing wrong and went to sleep with slow mournful singing playing inside her ear.

Grace never had pleasant dreams. Not what she would consider pleasant anyway. If she had the off-chance of remembering them, they usually consisted of Emergence Day and the hell that followed. Sometimes she could still smell the burning flesh and metallic blood. Other days she would hear the screams of her neighbors and their children. If she was lucky… she didn't remember them at all.

She awoke the next morning with the first sun's rays hitting her face. She immediately began packing up the camp, putting everything in her pack. Only after that was done she finished her dry cereal bar. She looked up at the trees, reminiscing. She missed the green. The bright, vibrant color of growth and life. She tried to imagine the sun seeping through the trees and the hue it would have given. She missed the gentle breezes. The gentle shift of the air around you as it teased at the hem of your skirt and the ends of your hair.

Some part of her still mourned that all she had known her whole life was of destruction. Before they had fought the locusts she had lost many friends and close family members in the wars fought with each other. The only time humanity bound together was in its struggle to fight the others. Even then, there were still people that wanted to fight each other.

Standing up she made a mental plan. She needed to find some sort of water soon, her canteens were running low. Using common sense she knew there was some sort of water nearby… _otherwise these trees wouldn't be doing as nearly good as they are now. _Slinging her pack onto her back and picking up her old rifle she began walking along the edge of the forest.

As the sun climbed higher and higher toward its peak she walked in search of water. Then she turned her body uncovering the vitality hidden amongst the forest. She smelled it on the air… the fresh scent of spring dew. She turned abruptly and followed the directions her nose gave her. Soon enough she heard it… the trickling and gurgling of a stream. She moved quickly out of excitement and anticipation. Unless she was deceived, there would be a stream nearby that would ease her worrying and extend her life for a little longer.

Panting slightly she rushed through the trees until she stumbled upon the rocky river bed. As she reached the water's edge she berated herself,

"Goddamnit Grace! What if there had been animals here? You just scared away potential food! What if there had been people here? You could have been taken… or killed! You can't just charge through like this!" Sighing she looked around, bent down, and dipped one finger in, tasting the water. Content she was alone, she studied the direction of the current and headed upstream, hoping the water would become more plentiful. Maybe, just maybe… there would be a pool that she could bathe and wash her clothes in. She tread quietly, her deerskin moccasins not making a sound. Her ears pricked at every sound in the forest, which weren't many. It was easy enough to distinguish friend or foe. Friend usually meant bird twitters or little skitters in the leaves here and there. Foe was usually a stomping, crunching heavy sound, followed by yelling or screeching.

Soon enough she found what she was looking for. There was a small water fall with a pool going down about ten feet. She walked cautiously to the edge with her canteens and jugs. Her jade colored eyes were peeled and her ears perked for anything unusual, while she filled up each container. Once she had filled up everything she did a perimeter around the pool. She climbed up the bank of the waterfall and crossed the rocky surface on top. She circled out about twenty feet, pausing every couple of seconds to look and listen. She came down the opposite side of the stream, so she was now facing the bank she was on earlier. Looking around more, she put her water, bag, and rifle down. She crouched next to her things for a couple minutes making sure she would be alone. _Better be safe than sorry…_ She was finally convinced that she was alone, after she threw a rock into the forest disturbing some animals. Nothing had happened after another twenty minutes.

She quickly took off her shoes and shirt, and then followed with her pants. She was now left in her underwear, which she took off as well. Still listening, she moved her rifle closer to the bank, so that she could grab it if she needed to. One could never be completely relaxed and comfortable. She put her toes in the water, it felt so cool and inviting; quickly slipping in, she gasped from the shock of the cold water on her hot skin. Grace ran her hands over her sinewy body, rubbing away the caked dirt and sweat that had built up. She cringed as her hands ran over her back, revealing how many bones stuck out. She looked down and saw with renewed vision that her ribs and hips stuck flagrantly out, making her look more like a skeleton. _Such a pity… if my ballet instructor could see me now… _She moved on rubbing her face and removing the dead skin that had built up. She decided to investigate her appearance further and bent closer to the water's surface. She frowned as she saw her hollowed cheeks and lifeless lips. The only thing that resembled her former self was her piercing, intelligent eyes. They shone brightly on her face, contrasting her otherwise dull features. She froze again, listening to her surroundings, her eyes peeling away all the lies of security among the trees. After a few seconds she turned her attention back to washing. She tilted her head back, sighing in pleasure as the cool water refreshed her itchy scalp and dirty auburn hair. Immediately some of her stress dissolved and she could almost feel her facial muscles relaxing. It felt so nice to be in the water… Grace wanted to stay there for at least an hour. She knew however that she needed to be on the move again. Wading back to shore after swimming languidly around the pool, she grabbed her clothes and dipped them in the water as well. She fiercely rubbed them together underwater, lifting the dirt from the fabric. After finishing the task, she wrung out her clothes and in turn put them back on her clean body.

She looked up at the sky, the time of day wasn't really clear through the trees but she guessed that it was mid-afternoon. She put her bag on and slung her rifle back over her shoulder. Looking around she started her trek again, following the small stream out of the forest. As she reached the edge of the forest she looked around. She was quite alone. She shielded her eyes as she looked to see where the stream led to. She turned and looked in the direction that she had been heading. Knowing that if she headed in that direction, there was a possibility that she wouldn't find water again. She also knew that if she followed this stream she was more likely to run across others. She sighed,

"Which way Grace? You gotta survive… _Yes, but Survival means not running into Others. _You need water. Other animals need water. There's more of a chance you will have food on this path. _Yes but the people… they attract Locust, they will kill me for my gun, my water, my food, and my clothes. I could be raped and tortured._" She almost sounded pitiful, arguing with herself, outweighing the odds of her survival. She wrung her hands together and sat down, Indian style. After several more minutes she decided to follow the water. After all, it wasn't like she had never dealt with people before. She would probably be able to spot their settlement a mile away and avoid it.

She got back on her feet and began walking alongside the stream, which had now turned into a large creek. She kept her ever vigilant eyes open, she knew that her path was dangerous. She came across a small outcropping of rocks as the sun was setting. It no longer had an orange glow, the light just grew weaker. She set up camp along the rocks a little ways away from the creek. She didn't start a fire that night, nor would she any night after that. It was too big a risk, it would be like asking to be found. She had finished her rations and her exercising, taking up her player she plugged in one earbud. She was too anxious to sleep. She didn't know why she felt so nervous and antsy but she listened. She had learned a long time ago to listen to her instincts, they were there to protect her. It had been at the beginning of the Great War. She had decided that fateful day that she needed to leave everyone and take a mini vacation. All that week she had had an awful feeling in her gut, like something terrible was going to happen. Sure enough, she had come back from her cabin retreat to find that her entire city had been attacked. Not by man, but by the monsters that came out of the ground. There were no survivors, just ashes and charred bodies. She remembered she was so scared, yet relieved. She had survived, not because she was special or a coward, but by luck.

She ran her hand through her hair absent mindedly as she listened to her music and reminisced, it seemed that was the only thing to do these days. It was now dark and she could see the millions of stars that sparkled across the sky.

_Your skin  
Oh yeah your skin and bones  
Turn into something beautiful  
And you know  
For you I'd bleed myself dry  
For you I'd bleed myself dry_

_It's true, look how they shine for you_  
_Look how they shine for you_  
_Look how they shine for_  
_Look how they shine for you_  
_Look how they shine for you_  
_Look how they shine_

_Look at the stars_  
_Look how they shine for you_  
_And all the things that you do_

_Grace had turned the radio on to get everyone calm and organized. She needed to get the picture taken and here they were all excited. She was glad that Yellow by Coldplay was on, if it had been more exciting then all the women would have started dancing and they wouldn't have been able to leave until later tonight. _

"_Gracie! Gracie! Gettova' here gurl! Put that camera on timer, you need to be in the picture too."Sandra's earthy voice carried across the room. The whole troupe was lining up to get their picture taken with their medals. They had just finished a ballet competition and come in first. That night they were planning on partying all night. Hit a few clubs, dance, drink… the usual. Grace ran lightly and took her place next to Sandra who grinned broadly and placed her arm over Grace's shoulders. The two of them had been close friends for a while now. It helped when Sandra worked with you, lived with you, and hung out with you. Sometimes though, she could really get on your nerves. Grace was smiling quietly to herself when the flash from the camera blinded her. She raced Sandra back over to the tripod, bumping her out of the way with her hip. She looked at the picture. Everyone had their best showbiz smiles on, grins going from ear to ear. Sandra's looked genuine, she was always the happy-go-lucky of the two. Grace's was definitely a different smile, it always looked like she was keeping a little secret from the world, her eyes dancing and one corner of her lips upturned slightly. Sandra spoke up from behind Grace's shoulder, _

"_Well I'll be… You're actually smiling in that picture!" Grace scoffed, _

"_I _always_ smile… I have no idea what you're talking about… OWW!" Sandra had smacked her lightly on the back of the head._

"_You ready to head out? I need to get ready for tonight." Grace gave the camera to one of the other women and headed out with Sandra, calling out good-byes over her shoulder. When they had made it home to their small flat, it was noon. Grace immediately changed into her leggings and camisole and switched the stereo on. _

_Yeah,tootsie roll_

_Let me see that tootsie roll  
__Get up and roll just make that tootsie roll  
__To the left, to the left, to the right, to the right  
__To the front, to the front, to the back, to the back  
__Now slide, slide baby slide, just slide baby slide  
__just slide baby slide, come on come on  
__  
__Sandra groaned from the other room, _

"_Seriously? I need to work on making myself sexy, your god awful music is not going to help!" Grace laughed and replied mockingly, _

"_But my dear… You're already the sexiest woman alive." Sandra responded by throwing her slippers at Grace and sticking her tongue out as she moved through the open space to what constituted a bathroom. Grace continued listening to the music and began working out, she loved dipping into 'Old Skool' for her workout routines, the songs always made her laugh and joyous. _

* * *

Ever since she was little, she had always needed music to motivate her. She had been able to move effortlessly keeping tempo with whatever music was loved being able to express her emotions through dance; music was her canvas and dance was her medium. None of that mattered anymore. There was no need for ballet dancers in this new world.

Grace woke with a start the next morning, gripping the rifle that she had been cradling. She looked around, not remembering that she had put away her music. She groaned, rubbing her neck.

"Ah, fuck. Why did you think it was a good idea to sleep sitting against a rock?" She looked at her bag which still lay in the spot that she left it. Looking around she saw that it was actually rather late in the day, with the sun having climbed a quarter of the way across the sky.

She heaved herself up and stretched. Looking towards the direction she had been travelling she scowled. There were dark clouds forming on the horizon. If she was lucky it would just be freezing rain or snow. If she was unlucky, well then… she didn't want to think about it. Maybe just this once she would risk staying with any other humans, if she found any.

Grace put on her protectors… St. Christopher and Michael now hung from her neck. She quickly began marching along the river towards the horizon. The sudden decision to throw herself in harm's way, actually made her feel safer. She knew what to expect and that helped even the playing field. The firm decision also helped steel her nerves, she knew she could take whatever was thrown at her. Firmly placing her music back in her ear, she continued marching with a renewed energy.

She didn't understand why she all of the sudden felt so energized and in control of her destiny, but maybe that was it. She _was_ in control of her destiny and this little storm cloud helped her realize it.

She had been trudging along for half the day, when she saw a small settlement ahead. She stopped a little while out, observing the town behavior through her rifle's scope.

"Well, Grace… They seem to be relatively sane. _Right. Relative being the keyword…_" She scoffed at herself. With her luck, they would be cannibals. Even if they were decent enough, she knew she couldn't stay for long. There was a deep hate harbored for those who wandered. They often stole and pillaged the small towns and were considered bad omens. She squinted at the sky, noting how much the little storm cloud had progressed. It was now stretching across the horizon several miles across and was only a couple miles away. She could see the sheets of rain and the bright flashes lighting up the rolling black clouds. _They will not like me showing up right before the storm…_

She growled as she thought of what to do with her rifle. She knew they would take it from her in a second. Even if she would need it down there, it would be better to leave it hidden up here where she knew she would find it again. She moved a couple of rocks and carefully placed her rifle in the middle. She took a few steps back to make sure that it was not readily visible. She gathered her things and headed toward the settlement.

She had gotten about five hundred meters from the entrance to the settlement, when she was approached by several heavily armed men. _Calm down Grace. They are scared of newcomers. Raise your hands… Raise them…_ She raised her hands above her head slowly. _There you go. See? That wasn't so bad. They are more at ease now._ She did notice that their guns weren't directly aimed at her head anymore and she found comfort in that notion. The biggest man spoke first,

"Whaddya want?" Grace shuddered at the harshness; she hadn't been around other people in so long.

"I just want a roof over my head while that storm sweeps through." They exchanged looks that clearly said, _Yeah. Right._ The biggest man looked back at her, taking a step closer.

"So all you want… is to stay in this town for a couple hours? Is that about right?" Grace nodded enthusiastically. _Grace, you are the definition of diplomacy and compromising. Be calm and compliant, we'll be fine…_

"What do you have in exchange?" Grace held up a hand signifying to wait a moment while she brought her currency out. She pulled out her cereal bar rations.

"I have twenty of these (_lie_)…" The boss man was now walking to her and picked up the brown plastic wrapped food rations. He looked at the writing on the packages trying to decipher their meaning. After a few short moments he shrugged and ripped it open. He took a piece and bit it. His expression was almost amusing as he tried to swallow the cereal dust that now coated his entire mouth and throat. Pulling out a flask he washed down the bar.

"Tastes like shit! Give me some of your water and these bars and you can stay." Grace protested,

"But you live on a river! Surely, you don't need _my _water…" She stopped talking when he gave her a look that showed he would drop her on the spot.

"You know, you try and give me food that I could choke on cuz it's so fucking dry… part of the meal is fucking water. So you give me your water. Like you said… _we're right next to a river_… it's not like you'll die of thirst…bitch." He snorted and smirked at her as she pulled out five of her six water jugs. She made sure to keep the last one hidden along with all her other rations. The other guards came and picked up the water and cereal bars and began walking back to the town.

People were now standing outside gawking at her. She didn't miss the hungry, lustful stares from some of the men. Most of them however, were looking at the storm fearfully. Grace looked up too and her stomach flipped. This was a very ominous storm, it would razor hail for sure. KRAAAAACCKKKK! There was a white flash that left Grace dazed and only seeing the negative imprint of the world. Everyone was now scuttling inside and the guards ahead of her ran to their houses. The man in front of her yelled, barely audible above the thunder,

"COME ON! GET IN THE HOUSE!" Grace didn't need to be told twice as she rushed after the leader. She quickly bolted into the house just as the razor hail began to fall. She received a few deep cuts but she would live. The razor hail never failed to leave her dumbstruck. The little pieces of frozen water looked like diamonds falling from the sky. From what Grace understood, there were as hard as diamonds too, able to skin a full-grown Gear alive. She had come across corpses after a razor hailstorm tore through an area. It was disturbing the damage it did to humans and animals alike. She had seen dozens of dogs and humans lying in the open their skin completely shredded away, all that remained was meat and bones. Her stomach still churned at the memory.

Doubled over and panting from the sudden exertion on her malnourished body, she looked up at the leader,

"Thank you by the way…" He looked at her funny as if she was implying that she expected him to leave her out there to become mince-meat. He grunted a response and sat down on a overturned crate,

"Call me Samuels. I'm the de facto leader of this town, if you need anything let me know." Grace nodded, not wanting to divulge her name to him, unless he asked it.

"So what brings you out here? I wasn't aware there were any other settlements nearby." Grace trembled a bit at the thought of having to talk about herself. The conversation could go downhill very fast.

"Well I was travelling along the river hoping to reach the ocean." Samuels snorted,

"What's so great about the ocean? There's nothing in it… no fish, no plants, nuthin'. What settlement are you headed to?" He was now scowling at the floor and Grace was now the one smirking,

"Hey, I'm not going to live there. It's just a place to head to." He looked at her closely and then she realized what she had said. _GODAMMIT GRACE! You stupid bitch! How could you say that without thinking? You know the stranded don't like wanderers!_ Samuels was now standing in front of her,

"So you don't have a home. I thought you were a gypsy… I should have known better than to let you into my town." His words were spoken quietly, which made them all the more scarier. A thousand fears flashed through Grace's brain, all of them ended with her dead or nearly dead. Her first instinct would have been to run, but the razor hail outside vetoed that decision. She now found herself backing up and him stepping closer.

"S-samuels I don't want any trouble. Please, I will be gone once the hail lets up. You can handcuff me or chain me up until then, if it makes you feel better. But please don't kill me, just let me go on my way once the weather lessens up." The words tasted like vinegar in her mouth. She felt like a weak, cowardly creature; sniveling and whimpering like a fool. He sneered,

"You stupid, fucking bitch. You think I'm just gonna let you go? No, no, no, no… You see me and my men, we lack for some fresh entertainment. So why don't you come here and do what I say. Maybe then I won't kill you."

The man closed the gap between them and held her by her shoulders. Grace squirmed under Samuels grip, battling between keeping her balance and trying to fend him off. She grabbed his arms to steady herself and then brought her knee swiftly into his groin. He groaned and cursed as he crumpled to the ground. Grace took that moment to look around and grab the closest thing to her that could be lethal. That happened to be a broken board with nails in one side. When she turned back around the man was on top of her. She quickly brought the board around and knocked him in the side of the head. He toppled over to the side, blood trickling from underneath his hair. Grace moved in close to make sure he was either dead or unconscious. As she came close to his face, he grabbed her arm pulling her to him. He snatched the board from her stunned hands and threw it behind him. With his free hand he punched her in the side of the face. Grace yelled in pain as she felt the bones crack. Frantically she tried to pull away, scratching and clawing at his arms and neck. He was now grabbing her neck and began pinning her to the ground. She was writhing on the floor below him, kicking and clawing at any body part that came in contact. Her fists found his chest and she began wildly hitting him. He 'oofed' as she punched him in the diaphragm, forcing all the air out. Deciding that he wasn't going to waste too much effort in fighting her, he brought his knee up and placed it on her chest, while he still held her in place by her neck.

Her eyes were rolling in their sockets as more and more adrenaline was dumped into her body. Everything was now happening in slow motion as three more men came running into the house. She realized that the sound of the razor hail was gone and was replaced by heavy rainfall. One man pinned her shoulders down, while another grabbed her feet. She kicked the man in the face and he fell to the side groaning. He was quickly replaced by the third man, who was not shaken off so easily. Now that she couldn't move so violently the man on top of her started punching her in the face again. Each time he swung down at her, she moved her head to avoid her nose being smashed in.

The fight in her died with each blow to the face and she realized she had been screaming and yelling the entire time. Her vision blackened and she tried in vain to stay conscious. Now his fist was coming straight into her and she didn't turn her head in time. She felt blood spurt from her nose and warmth cover her mouth and chin. She moaned in pain as she felt her mind slip from reality into nothingness.

* * *

"Listen up everyone! This _gypsy slut_ has stolen from our food stores! The filthy scavengers are now infiltrating our borders and beginning to plague our land!" Grace was thrown into the mud, the rain was almost gentle now. She was vaguely aware that she had been stripped of everything, even her clothes. At the moment all she worried about was whether they had tampered with her player. _They better not have taken it apart… Those bastards!_ The crowd that had formed around her was yelling. She could only make out a couple words,

"KILL… STRING 'ER UP…BITCH…" Samuels continued his tyrade,

"What should we do with her? Should we teach her a lesson?" One of Samuels' lackeys had come over next to her and kicked her in the side. Grace didn't even make a sound, she was too weak to even move away from him and brace for the next kick. It came again and she felt her ribs crack. With her face half covered in mud, she began coughing up blood. Her vision was blurred from pain, but she made out a figure coming close to her. She guessed it was a man from his deep voice and thick legs.

He spoke but she did not understand. He left almost as quickly as he came and she saw another pair of recognizable boots stand next to her face. Samuels was holding something metal and rusty in his hands. For some reason, her mind decided it would be beneficial to focus on the rust of the blade versus what was going on. She became acutely aware of a sudden pain in her side as she was drug to a half standing position next to the man. He held her there by her upper arm while the rest of her body drooped to the ground.

He was gesturing to the bloodthirsty crowd with a machete. They were screaming and jumping in rage and bloodlust. They wanted her dismembered and grotesquely mutilated for all to see. They wanted to post her body parts outside the camp, they would serve as warnings and deterrents to other would be 'gypsies'. They were tired of wandering bands of marauders and pirates. They were tired of others trying to come in and tell them what to do. They wanted revenge and she would be the sacrifice. She would serve as their appeal to the God of War and He would bless them with warriors and blood. They wanted to kill everyone that was not like them. Be it locust, C.O.G, or other settlements. They were now chanting and emitting guttural noises. Samuels picked Grace's arm up, bringing her to a higher standing position.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Grace fell to the ground, her arm remained in his hand. She looked around wildly, her eyes rolling in her head. Her arm looked grotesque residing in his hand, it was strange but she could almost still feel it attached to her. She tried to move it, but it was of no avail. From the copious blood loss and shock, Grace was gone. All that remained was an underfed rabid animal. She continued screaming wildly as their orgy of blood continued. Samuels had taken her arm and dripped the blood over his face, then threw it to the angry crowd.

Her eyes looked on as the mob was doing everything it could to contain itself from rushing her body. Samuels was now yelling along with the crowd, brandishing his machete above his head. He turned to her again and brought the machete down again. Another limb was removed from her body and her screams showed she had reached a new level of raw pain. As the pain became so overwhelming that she couldn't think, she was reminded of a song. She held onto that thread of thought, repeating part of it over and over in her head like a prayer,

_Burning pain in Your heart  
And raining tears from Your eyes  
You wonder why Your love has gone  
And why tonight You're so alone_

Cold it's so cold and Your life is fading away  
No more tears they have become a part of ice

The song had helped restore part of her mind. This was her last struggle in life, if she could just maintain some part of her humanity, she would have done her best. She would have proven that she was worth a damn and that she was different than Samuels and his town, who were now drenched in her blood and screaming. She would have shown that the Locust did not win even in their death.

She was able to slowly defeat the pain of being butchered alive. She was no longer on Sera, she was in-between, travelling towards the light. The sun was now warm on her skin, the green from the leaves reflecting around her as she heard the slight rustling of the trees. She smiled quietly at Samuels as if she was keeping a little secret from the world. He faltered slightly as his arm brought the machete down on her, extinguishing the last of her life.

Grace exhaled as she saw the blade come down, _Daddy… Sandra. I'm coming home…_

The mob roared with delight as they saw her body chopped into bits. The mud covered them as they jumped and rushed toward her body, like a pack of hungry wolves. They pounded the earth with their dirty feet as they began dancing a dance of war. Their town had evolved into something more, it had now become a tribe.

A young boy watched from Samuels house as the angry mob tore apart the woman. But for what? So that they could have some sort of satisfaction? So that they could feel better about what the C.O.G. had done to them? He looked over his shoulder at the corner where they had stashed her bag. She had hidden food and water from them, but he couldn't blame her. He looked back at his father and the mob, they were preoccupied with the dead wanderer.

He walked briskly over and picked through her things. Most of it wasn't like anything he was used to. There was a picture of two teenage girls, he smiled. On the back was written: _Sandra and Grace 17 years old._ Then there was a pair of odd shoes. They were made of smooth fabric and had ribbons attached to them. He scoffed under his breath at the absurdity of them, they definitely would not hold up on the road. Why keep them? He dug through some more and found an electrical device. It was old, way older than him. It had earplugs attached to it. He put one in his hear and turned the player on. His ears were greeted with music that he had not heard before. It was amazing, he had no idea that things like this even existed… He looked back at the door nervously. His father was still out there speaking to the crowd. The boy turned his attention back to the player, listening to the music.

_Grace, she carries a world on her hips  
No champagne flute for her lips  
No twirls or skips between her fingertips  
She carries a pearl in perfect condition_

What once was hurt  
What once was friction  
What left a mark  
No longer stings  
Because grace makes beauty  
Out of ugly things

Grace makes beauty out of ugly things

He didn't understand why it was so beautiful, but it moved him. He realized that he no longer wanted to stay here and live in fear and hate. He was young but that didn't matter, he learned long ago that he had to take care of himself. His father would never be there for him, the boy knew he reminded his father too much of his dead mother and sister.

He took the player and the picture and put them in his pocket. He looked down at the funny shoes, they belonged to an era that wasn't his. But they reminded him of a beautiful time, when everything didn't have to be so rugged and hard. Things could exist because you enjoyed them, not because you needed them. He awkwardly grabbed the shoes and ran out the back door of Samuels' house.

He quickly raced back to where he kept his secret things. There was a deer skull, a hunting knife, and an old stuffed puppy that was worn and dirty. He squatted down and looked around to make sure no one had followed him. He grabbed the pack that contained his treasures and put his newfound treasures inside with them. He ran a loving hand over the worn out puppy and put it back in. That night he would leave.

Night had fallen over the small town, the cloud cover prevented any stars from peeping through. The boy shuffled out of the house, his father had fallen asleep in a drunken stupor after he had taken some of the local women to the room with him. The boy knew that he wasn't going to wake up until late the next morning. He walked past the row of houses and shanties, the residents either sleeping or yelling at each other. He made it to where he had hid the food and his treasures. He picked up his things and crept silently away from the town. He checked and made sure many times that no one was watching him or following him. He could have easily spouted something about his father given him permission, but thankfully everyone was indoors.

He began his journey that night, a journey that would take him who knows where, who knows when. He needed to leave the hatred behind and begin anew. He had seen the woman's smile as the machete descended on her, it was something he had never known or seen. She was an angel… he was sure of it.

**Author's Note: Here I am again! Anyway the songs used in this fic are: Yellow by Coldplay, Tootsee Roll by 69 Boyz, White Snow by Suicidal Romance, and Grace by U2. Comments, helpful tips, and suggestions are much appreciated! **


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